


Lets Start Fires For Heavens Sake

by harriiiii



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A little slow at the minute, It'll kick up eventually, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 14:25:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17285771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harriiiii/pseuds/harriiiii
Summary: After Steve's encounter with the Winter Soldier in D.C, it's all he can do to get his friend back.





	Lets Start Fires For Heavens Sake

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics at the start from 'Sinners' by Lauren Aquilina.
> 
> I do not own any of these characters and all rights go to Marvel.

_So let's be sinners to be saints_  
And let's be winners by mistake  
The world may disapprove  
But my world is only you

'Sinners' - Lauren Aquilina

_-_

 

**June 2014, 1 month after the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D**

In a house in D.C, the events of the previous month are finally starting to catch up with Captain America. Not that he's going to tell anyone though. The way his hands keep twitching at every noise or the way he keeps hurling himself at his phone (custom-made by Tony Stark for the Avengers of course) every time it rings is a sure sign of this. It's not like he can help it! It's not every day you find out that your best friend from the 1940s that had literally _died_ in front of you was very _not_ dead and had been turned into a brainwashed Hydra assassin! Or that said best friend had tried to murder you and your other two friends and then dragged you out of the Potomac. Or that the intelligence agency you were working for had just _collapsed_ -.

Steve groans, running his hand over his face and through his hair as he slumps back against the sofa he's sitting on. He swears that his life used to make sense. Well, you know, before the whole being turned into a "big, blonde beefcake". (This was what Nat had said when he'd relayed his thoughts one night. Sam had nodded in the background.)

His mind is still racing just like it has been since the Battle at the Triskelion. Since Fury had disappeared and Sam had told him he'd help him with his search for Bucky, it just would not shut up. Steve rubs his eyes and looks around Sam's house. He's not good at not doing anything. He needs to be constantly doing _something_. With the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D, there was no longer any covert missions to go on. His eyes focus on a spot just outside of the window. The paint is splitting slightly on Sam's fence. Maybe he should ask Sam if he could repaint it. At least he'd feel as if he was doing something productive.

He huffs, a breath of warm air fanning out in front of him. There's not much for him to do. He's tried to spend his time finding information about Bucky but other than the information that Natasha had gotten from her contacts in Kiev, there was barely anything to go on. It makes sense, Hydra made the Winter Soldier to be a ghost, they wouldn't leave sensitive information about it just laying around. He rubs a hand over his chin as he continues to stare at the fence. It's mocking him, he can tell.

He really wishes that Sam wasn't at the VA right now. He could do with someone to distract him. Steve shakes his head, eyes finally leaving the mocking fence. Maybe he _should_ really paint the fence... Yawning, he checks his watch: it's only 9:30. How he didn't know. He's already gone for a run this morning and it feels like noon but the sun isn't quite high enough. If he doesn't do something now he's going to explode.

In the past, he had usually drawn or after very insistent prodding and poking by Bucky, talked about what was wrong. (He's not sure if thinking about Bucky hurts more or less now.) Now though, not to mention that he hasn't properly drawn since he woke up from the ice and even though he's glad he's got Sam and Nat, he doesn't think it's fair to unload everything onto them. They have their own shit to try to deal with. They don't need his on top of theirs as well.

It's not just that though. He's  _Captain America_. He's not meant to let shit get to him. He's meant to be the leader. Strong, steady, unflinching. If he lets that happen, well, he'd be backing up _many_ of the fears and worries that keep him awake in the dead of night.

There's a nagging voice that sounds suspiciously like a certain red-headed Russian assassin that tells him he's being an obtuse, self-sacrificing idiot. He does his best to ignore it.

He gathers up his phone and his earphone-things that Nat had got him when they had originally started working together and heads towards the door. He may as well go for another run. He slips on his running shoes and jogs down Sam's path after locking the door.

He sends Sam a quick text to let him know that he's going for a run.  
' _Again?_ ' Was the response. ' _You went before I'd even left the house, Rogers. Why'd you need to go again?_ 'Chuckling, he replies to the text he'd received nearly instantaneously.   
' _Make fun of me all you want, Wilson. I'd rather be punching a boxing bag but you don't have one..._ '  
' _Didn't think you'd be very happy if I tore up your sofa.'_  
' _Har Har. Very funny. Get on with your run, old man._ '

Sending one last text to Sam (' _Could still beat you though' 'GO AWAY ROGERS_ ') he starts on his run.

-

 

The sun is shining from its position high in the sky when he finally stops. It's nearly half an hour after he left the house when his phone buzzes against his leg. He knows this sound; it was the special tone he'd added so that if Nat contacted he knew to answer. He takes out his phone from where it had been in his pocket, turning it on. There are multiple texts from Sam about what he was doing which he'd been ignoring. And a single notification from Natasha like he'd thought. Frowning, he clicks on it; Nat was supposed to be somewhere in Europe. Steve furrows his eyebrows together, bewildered by the sudden message. Nat usually insists that there are no communications when on missions unless it was for an emergency-.

Oh _shit._

Scanning through the text quickly, he lets out a sigh of relief when he's sure that she's okay. Then he promptly sucks it back in again when he realises what the text is about.

_Steve,_

_Before you worry, everything's fine. Just an update. My contacts have managed to find more information. A list of kills and such. I've messaged Sam as well. I'll be back in a couple of days. I've got a lead on your little buddy. He's been spotted back near you. Canada. I'll let you know when I get more info. TTYL - Nat_

And attached were pictures of a few documents that Nat had found as well as the coordinates that Bucky had been spotted at.

_Bucky._ In Canada. Steve lets out the breath he'd been holding, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly and tensing again. Well, it's a start that's for sure. He pauses for a minute, watching the rest of the people milling around without a care in the world, completely unaware of the ground-shaking news he'd just received.

With one last glance, he turns on his heel and heads back to Sam's, lightning on his heels.

 

-

 

By the time that Steve has got back to Sam's, he's met with three more messages from him.

_'You get the message from Widow?'_  
_'You headed back, man?'_  
_'I've called in a favour and I'll be back in 10'_

Steve's sprinted all the way back to Sam's so the house he's met with is empty. He opens the door as fast as he can, fumbling with the keys in his haste. In the living room, he unlocks Sam's laptop, fingers working a mile a minute. He's far better at using technology than most people think. When he'd first woken up, yeah it had been pretty confusing but it had only taken him a couple of days to get used to most of it. He wasn't an idiot before the serum and with it, it got enhanced along with everything else.

By the time Sam skids into the drive, Steve has already located a S.H.I.E.L.D safehouse near the coordinates that Natasha had sent them. He was currently looking at every local news station in the area for any signs of, well. Anything.

Sam opens the door with such force that it bounces off of the wall but neither of them pays heed to it. Steve watches as Sam closes the door behind himself before sliding into the chair next to him.

Steve pushes the laptop over to him, the tabs he's looking at still open.

"Is it safe?" Is all that Steve gets in reply.

"It's a safe house, Sam. Kinda the point." Steve pulls the laptop back as he speaks, showing the coordinates to Sam. "I've checked it with Nat, she says it'd be fine. Most of the," he works his hand through his hair, as he gestures with the other, "The only ones, safe houses, that we need to be careful with are the ones 'round here. Well, the ones on US soil. Nat says it's 'cause they're the only ones that SHIELD kept records of and now that that's public record, they're not gonna be quite as, uh." He taps his fingers against the table as he searches for the word.

"Safe?" Sam finishes, the small smile on his face bleeding humour into the word. Steve can tell that he was trying to help shift the tense atmosphere that the recent breakthrough has created. He hopes that the tiny smile that creeps onto his face shows his gratitude.

He nods his head, "Exactly. As long as we stick to the ones that Nat has we should be fine."

Sam nods as well, trusting his word. He stands up, walking over to the kitchen that connects to the living area that they're sat in. "You want a drink?"

And that is one of the things that Steve's most grateful for in Sam. His easy trust and easygoing attitude. It makes everything a little easier, he doesn't freak out or drown you in useless platitudes. Steve guesses it's due to his VA training; if you fussed you wouldn't exactly be the best counsellor to people who really need the peace. It does make it very easy to be friends with him though. He's only known the guy for a month and yet he'd dropped nearly anything to help him. He hadn't even really known him when he and Nat had shown up on his doorstep, yet he'd let them in. Let them use his shower, gave them a place to crash and even made them breakfast. It had definitely helped.

Other than Nat, there isn't really anyone else currently that knows about Buck other than Sam. Steve knows that there are people that he could go to to get help (namely the rest of the Avengers) but it doesn't feel quite right to involve them in this. He says it's because he doesn't want to drag them into his problems because he's the Captain. Their leader. When Nat had asked the first week after the collapse, he'd told her that and she'd shaken her head and looked at him with that look in her eyes that she _knew_ he was talking shit.

If Steve isn't lying to himself and come on, a lot of the time he is and doesn't that sound just like Sam. If he isn't lying then it's because he doesn't want to jeopardise Bucky's safety. He gets it, he's been turned into a super badass, Hydra affiliated assassin and even before that he could look after himself just fine but... he's still Steve's Bucky. Metal arm included. He doesn't want to risk him for anything. Steve hasn't even got him back yet but he has to believe that he will. It's not even like he doesn't trust the rest of his team. Sure, they're not all the closest but he still trusts them to have his back. He knows that after the Battle of New York that they would. It's not even that he thinks that they wouldn't back him up. He just... wants to keep this private for a bit rather than turning it into a huge deal. That's all.

He's wasted a lot of time thinking about it and he still doesn't know how to properly say what he wants to.

Sam comes back over with mugs of coffee; black for Steve and sweet and milky for himself. He claps Steve on the back as he sets them down in front of him. Steve nods his thanks to his friend as he grabs the coffee he's been given.

Sam reaches over and takes his own and settles down into the corner of the settee, still in his clothes from the VA. For a while, they sit there in quiet contemplation, both thinking over the plans for the next few days. Steve understands that this is a huge turning point as before now all of the information they'd gathered was from the past; what the Winter Soldier had done, what they'd done to the Winter Soldier, what they wanted him to do, basic information. That sorta thing. But this is the first sighting they'd had and it's far closer than they'd thought. Steve had thought that they would've had to go far further if they'd eventually gotten a lead. But no, this is lucky. Steve's glad, don't get him wrong, but... it doesn't feel right. Now that the excitement and adrenaline that he'd been filled with has faded and he's had longer to think about it, it feels too soon. Steve mentally berates himself for that. The sooner the better, right? Still, the Winter Soldier was trained to be a ghost and the Bucky he knows wasn't an idiot. Why would he let himself be seen so close and so soon? He mulls it over, trying to think of a reason. He knows his ma would be rolling in her grave at his ungratefulness but it just feels wrong.

He sips his coffee and looks out of the window, and down at the laptop, towards the door, at his phone, at his coffee before Sam sighs and puts his mug down. Steve watches him from the corner of his eye as he deliberates on what to say. In the end, he sighs again and turns to face Steve more. Steve mentally steels himself; Sam is very good at picking up signs.

"What's up with you, man? I thought you'd be pleased about this."

Steve groans and rolls his head back before tipping it to look at Sam. "I am."

"Then what's got you all huffy. I can just about hear you thinkin'."

Steve rolls his eyes at him. "Doesn't it just feel... Too soon?" He tilts his head back against the back of the sofa, avoiding Sam's questioning gaze.

"I don't know what you mean, man. Too soon? This is literally what you've been waitin' for. Isn't the sooner you can find him better? Let you fix him up or whatever it is you're gonna do sooner?" Sam looks at him quizzically, like he can't figure him out. Steve can't blame him for that, honestly. He doesn't understand himself at times.

"Yeah, yeah, it is. I mean, God, it's great. Because now we have an actual place to start but-" Steve sighs and sits up properly, looking Sam in the eyes. "He's an assassin."

This only makes Sam look even more confused. "I don't know what's up with you, man, but you're literally the one whos been urgin' us about how he pulled you out of the Potomac and how he's still got good in him."

For what feels like the fifth time today, Steve sighs. "He was trained to be a ghost, Sam. A ghost. As in not to be seen. And yet he just miraculously shows up. So _close_? So _soon_? Why _?_  You'd think he knows how to hide. Knows hows to blend into the shadows. So why now? It just doesn't feel-. Right." And God, it hurts so much to say this. To doubt and to worry but Steve doesn't know what he's going to do if it falls through. 

Steve sees the moment when Sam understands what he's getting at. When he realises what Steve's saying. He sees it in the way his eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up.

Sam's face is sympathetic. Steve doesn't know what his own face is doing but it's probably not very cheery by the look on Sam's. "You thinkin' its just a false alarm then?"

"I don't want it to be. God, I don't want it to be but it doesn't make sense."

"What if," Sam has his head in his hand, fingers rubbing his forehead.

"What if what?" Steve's a bit choked up. He clears his throat as Sam carries on.

"What if he _wants_ to be found?" Sam glances up and looks at him straight in the eyes.

"But why?" Steve doesn't understand that. The last interaction that they'd had, had been him being shot multiple times and then getting thrown into a river. Doesn't make a whole lotta sense. Sure, _he_ wants to find Bucky, but the last time he'd checked, he still has all his memories intact and Bucky very clearly doesn't. That thought leaves a pang in his chest.

"Well, we won't know unless we check it out." And with that, Sam picks up his coffee again and the remote as well. Turning on the TV, he leaves Steve to stew in his own thoughts.

He gets so preoccupied that he doesn't realise his coffee has gone cold till Sam asks if he wants more.

 

-

 

The rest of their day was filled with planning. They managed to sort out what they needed and Sam had been to go get some dollars converted into Canadian dollars. They had messaged Natasha to see if she had any follow-ups but that had come up as a dead end. They'd ordered in and Sam had made sure that the VA knew he was going to be gone for a few days.

Now though, it's late and Sam's already gone to bed. That's what Steve's meant to be doing. Burrowing down into the covers of the bed in Sam's spare bedroom where he's been camped for the past month. Instead, though he's standing in the bathroom, with his arms braced against the sink as he stares at his ragged reflection in the mirror.

It shouldn't affect him as much as it does but he doesn't know if he can handle going all the way to Canada for it to be a dead end. For now, he's holding on even if he is teetering. But he has to steel himself. For Bucky. For Nat. For Sam. For himself because if he doesn't, he doesn't want to disappoint those around him and he desperately needs to get Bucky back. Just knowing that he's out there and alive is enough to send Steve crazy.

God, you'd think that after a month of knowing he's alive would make him immune to this. But God, Bucky's alive. It's the fact that there's been a lead that's doing this. The fact that he's had a stressful day but he's still amazed. His best friend. The man he mourned. The man he-, Steve looks down at the porcelain of the sink. The man he's pined for since he was 14.

The man that died and came back. Steve's so grateful that he even gets a second chance to see his friend again. Most people don't. He understands that. The dead coming back can more often than not cause more hurt than good. Steve refuses to let the hurt win.

He tilts his head back up to look at himself. He can't tell if he looks calmer or if his breathing has picked up again but he feels better.

He releases his grip on the poor sink and takes a deep breath. He refuses to lose his cool. It's not fair on Sam and it could be the deciding factor to whether or not he can help Bucky. One last deep breath and he finishes off getting ready for bed.

It only takes him 5 minutes but between that and crawling into bed, it feels like a lifetime. Waiting for sleep to come that night feels like he's stuck in quicksand but it's all that's separating him from the next day and a chance to get his best friend back. He waits for sleep to take him, prayers to a God he's long forgotten on the tip of his tongue for that chance. He dreams of hope.

 

-

 

**June 2014, The day after the first sighting of Bucky Barnes**

When Steve wakes the next day, it's not to the melodic tune of birdsong but to the very off-key sounds of Sam's singing in the shower and his alarm blaring. The mix of Steve throws his arm over his eyes and desperately tries to block out the out of tune wailing he can hear coming from down the hall.

"And IIIIIIIiiieeeiiiiii will alwayss looooove yoooooouuuuuuu~"

Steve groans as the unholy 'singing' filters through the door. Flinging off his quilt, he sits up on his bed. He twists his body around to grab his phone off of his nightstand and turn his alarm off. Staring blearily at the wall, he rubs his eyes to get the sleep out of them. Steve stumbles, half asleep, across the room to get a pair of sweatpants. He pulls them on, yawning as he walks over to his door.

Steve usually loves mornings. The calm atmosphere, the soft light, the slow lull, the way it feels to have an entire day in front of you. He prefers to get up and start his day early but by that, he means at like, six or seven not four in the goddamn morning. Especially not when you've had what feels like two hours of sleep. It's still dark outside and yes, he gets why they have to go early, he and Sam had agreed to it last night. He gets that it makes their departure less noticeable, that it means that they'll get to the Canadian border earlier. The sooner they get there, the less likely that Bucky will have been able to move farther away. If it means he has to get up at fuck O'clock then so fucking be it. Bucky was worth more than an extra hour or two or rest.

He still really wants to go back to sleep.

Steve shuffles into the kitchen, as persistent as always, Sam's singing getting quieter behind him. He works on getting them some breakfast ready. It's not quite a gourmet meal but a few slices of toast and a pot of coffee tends to hit the spot. They can always stop off somewhere on their way anyway. He lets out a slight hum as he sits down at the kitchen table, waiting for the coffee to brew.

Vaguely, he hears the sounds of the shower turning off but doesn't fully register it until Sam walks into the kitchen fully dressed and wearing a cheery smile.

Steve inclines his head, towards the coffee pot and toast, in greeting to his friend. He swirls his own coffee around as he watches Sam pour his own. He looks out of the window (the one with the view of that insulting fence) to see that it was still, unsurprisingly, dark. There was no movement past the small front porch, past that damn fence, on the quiet street that the house was situated at. Nothing more than a few bushes swaying lightly due to the wind, a slight flicker from one of the street lamps.

Life here was very different than life in New York, this was quieter, more untroubled than the hustle and bustle that filled his home city. Steve likes D.C but God does he miss home.

He's not entirely sure if he's just thinking about New York at this point.

"You ready for this?" Steve looks up from the window and pulls himself away from his quiet musings to see Sam facing him.

"I just wanna find him, Sam."

He knows that Sam's face is sympathetic, knows that he's looking at Steve in that way he does with the veterans at the VA.

"I get it, man, I do." Sam moves to sit at the table across from him. "He's your friend. I know that if, if Riley had come back I'd be in the same boat as you are. Whether this is a dead end or not, I'm not saying it is, that was you. You'll find him eventually, Rogers. If he's managed to come back from the dead, which you did as well, man."

Steve huffs a laugh as Sam carries on, "Then you can find him."

"I just don't know what I'm gonna if I can't."

"Who says you can't. You not Captain America?"

There's a flurry of nervous energy in his stomach now that he's more awake. He's giddy, slightly but there's still that nagging feeling.

"S'not that. Jus'. Like last night. doesn't make sense that he'd show up so soon. I know, I know. Sound like a madman. This has been what we've been waitin' for for the last month." His fingers idly trace a pattern on the table top as he mulls over his words.

"I want this to stop, wanna find him and get him sorted. God knows I do. But I, I've. I know it's not gonna happen. I know it and I don't know what to do with that."

"Aren't you just a bundle of laughs this morning?"

"Shut it, Wilson. I just. God, I spent most of the night wishing that its gonna go right. But there's this pit in my stomach, like I know it's not gonna be today. It hurts."

"Then let it be tomorrow. Never known you to be anything but determined. Why you lettin' a feeling stop you?"

Steve sighs and fiddles with the seam of his sweatpants. "I'm not. I'm gonna make the most of this. Just got a gut feeling, s'all. "

"I just want this to be over, Sam." And God he does, he wants to move onto the healing process. Wants to have time to process this, this chance. Wants to get his best friend back, to stop feeling like he's going to explode. Wants this to be easy. Of course, it never is.

He doesn't understand why he's so conflicted. Doesn't understand why he's feeling like this. Sam's right, he's never let anything stop him before so why should he now? Taking a deep breath, he looks up at Sam, "We should go."

Gut feeling be damned, he's not letting this chance go to waste. He's not going to let Buck down. He can't. The pit in his stomach opens more to fill with nervous excitement. To fill with hope. He can do this. He has to.

 

-

 

They're about halfway through their car trip to Canada when Sam pipes up from the driver's seat next to him.

"What's your actual plan when you find Barnes anyway?" Sam glances towards him, then back to the dry road.

Steve's been thinking about this actually. He wants to ensure that he can get Bucky somewhere safe but the list of places that fit the bill has sadly decreased. Not to mention their remaining allies.

On top of that, they don't even know what sort of mental state Bucky is in. Whether he has regained his memories or not is a mystery to them currently. They're not sure what the full extent of the torture that HYDRA had done to him is. They have a rough idea, what with the documents that Nat has gathered and everything else they've managed to scrounge up but... there's not a whole lot to go on.

Steve speaks up, eyes staring ahead at the road as he relays his thoughts to Sam.

"You have any idea where there'd be people that could help?" Sam questioned once Steve's finished.

"Stark Tower," Steve says, voice uncertain. "I would've thought S.H.I.E.L.D but."

"Well, that'd work, wouldn't it? Starks got the resources and you guys are all buddy-buddy aren't you?"

Steve laughs, deep and rich. Well, that's one way to put it. "No." He drags the word out. "Not really no. We're acquaintances. We're on the same world-saving team but, uh. We're not the closest."

"And why's that?" Sam asks curiously, dark eyes flitting up to the rearview mirror before settling back onto the road.

Steve leans his back against the headrest in Sam's car. "We had a bit of a... Disagreement. When the team first got together actually. Not quite as harsh as it was then but we're not what you'd call 'buddies'."

Steve studies the long strip of the road ahead of them; it was brighter now that the dawn had broke. There are no other cars on the road with them, just them and the sky. Steve scoffs.

"What about the other Avengers then? You 'buddy-buddy' with any of them?" Sam asks after a view moments of quiet.

"Only Nat really, and Barton. I don't know the others that well. Thor's never around and Banner and Stark tend to keep to themselves. Last I'd heard, Nat said that Stark was thinking about letting us stay there."

"What d'ya think about that?"

Steve sighed, "I don't know. It could work. But everyone has their own responsibilities as well as the team. Not that we've actually assembled since." He huffs a laugh, air blowing harshly through his nose.

He lays his arm along the car door, long fingers tracing the material.

He'd been expecting the team to have been used more than it had but, Steve decided, it makes sense. There doesn't tend to be many end of the world situations on a daily basis.

With SHIELD and their affinity of throwing him into covert missions, he'd barely seen the rest of the other Avengers. Other than Nat and Barton, as he'd said to Sam, they had their own shit to do. Their own battles to fight.

Sam taps his fingers along to the beat of the song that was playing on the radio when he asks "Would you want your little, avenging thing to assemble again then?" The way he says 'assemble' is mocking and light and Steve can't help but grin.

"Well, I'd rather the world doesn't collapse again. Had enough of that to last a lifetime." Steve joked back.

"Can't decide that, man." Sam snorted. "Can only help stop it."

Well, he was right about that Steve reasoned.

After that they don't speak much, spending the rest of the journey to the border in near silence. The radio keeps playing and even if Steve doesn't recognise the songs it's playing, he can appreciate their similar, catchy tunes. All fast beats and a solid backing track. He can tell when Sam dislikes one because of his face creasing as they start, his hands stopping their continuous tapping.

It was quite peaceful really, and Steve was glad for it. They weren't on their way to do the easiest of tasks. The reminder of what they were doing this for causes the nervousness in Steve's belly to begin fluttering again. It had been nice to sit in the car with Sam and just drive. It had felt normal for a while but the sudden pull back to reality causes Steve to feel unsteady.

Sam must have noticed his sudden tense up because when he speaks, his voice is low. Peaceful and calm. "We're about an hour out now." Steve hadn't realised that that much time had passed. The thought shocks him a little. "Reminds me bout this time with my mom..."

Steve's grateful for the distraction. It helps to quiet the ruckus in his head a little.

 

-

 

The safe house wasn't much to look at but it would suffice. They didn't need much; just a place to stay while they continued their search.

They didn't stay long. Once they'd arrived they started nearly instantly.

Steve almost wished he'd listened to his gut. The heartbreak that he had when there was nothing there threatened to suffocate him.

They should have known that this was the start of a long list of dead ends.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the start of hopefully a slightly longer fic. There probably won't be much romance till later chapters. Leave a comment with suggestions or ways that I can make the characterisation of the characters better. enjoy


End file.
